


Crema Verse Prompt Fill #30

by twobirdsonesong



Series: Crema Verse [33]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drabble, Established Relationship, Flowers, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fill, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:18:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twobirdsonesong/pseuds/twobirdsonesong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked you: I think your Crema Verse is just the loveliest thing! For a prompt can I just give you one word please: FLOWERS (and I wish I could give you a big bunch in real life) Thank you!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crema Verse Prompt Fill #30

The first clue should have been the security guard, Phil, who gives Kurt a  _look_  when he flashes his ID badge and swipes his keycard to gain access past the Condé Nast lobby that morning.  Kurt doesn’t think much of it though.  He’s dressed impeccably as always: a sleek, grey John Varvatos biker jacket, a crisp, white collared shirt opened wide at the throat, and charcoal trousers tucked into his calf-high boots.  He looks amazing and he knows it; he got plenty of  _looks_  on his way to work already.  From a young man with spiked hair who tried to stand too close to him in the subway, from the woman crossing the street at Broadway who actually turned to eye him a second time as he walked past her.  And from Blaine, who’d watched him get dressed with a heated, heavy-lidded gaze.  Blaine had been stretched out, tanned and languid across their rumpled sheets, naked as sin and gloriously so.  Kurt had preened in front of Blaine, turning this way and that, showing off the length of his legs in the dark pants and the flexing of his muscles under the thin shirt as he’d pulled on the jacket.  The way Blaine’s eyes had darkened and his hips had moved, so subtly, but still noticeable, against the bed, had been more than enough to let Kurt know just how good he looked.

But Kurt is sure that it’s probably his hair – uncharacteristically mussed from Blaine’s grasping fingers and practically falling across his forehead - that has Phil grinning at him in the lobby.  Everyone knows he has a boyfriend, that  _Blaine_  is his boyfriend, so there’s no reason for anyone to look so smug when he comes to work, having clearly been given a thorough  _good morning_  by said boyfriend.  Kurt has nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of; he’s a grown man and if he doesn’t have time to fix his hair after pulling himself away from his naked, gorgeous, adoring boyfriend, then all the better for him.  At least the loose scarf around his neck hides the still-red mark of Blaine’s mouth.

The second sign should have been the wink he gets from Julie – an intern down in marketing – when she gets onto the elevator with him.  She blushes a little after her bold gesture, clutches her stack of folders to her chest, and refuses to meet his gaze for the rest of the ride up.  Kurt briefly wonders if maybe Blaine left a mark on him that he hasn’t quite covered up.  But then there’s Mark in advertising who playfully punches his shoulder in the hallway, and Jenna, an assistant, who calls out: “Someone must have done something good!” when he passes her desk.  Kurt hates not knowing what’s going on.

But it all comes together when he approaches his office.  There, affixed to his door, are two roses – one yellow and one red – crossed at the stems and looped with an emerald green ribbon.  His heart starts to beat a little faster, a little harder, and Kurt reaches out and the petals are silk-soft between his fingers.

“You should probably go inside.”  Carrie’s voice, fondly amused, comes from over his shoulder.  Kurt turns to find his boss, in a bold, asymmetrical dress that he’d spend more time assessing her outfit if he weren’t so distracted, standing behind him.  Her arms are folded across her chest and she’s grinning broadly at him.

“I, what is this?”  Kurt knows what roses are – he knows what  _yellow and red roses_ mean – but he doesn’t know why they’re on his door.  But Carrie just grins and lifts her shoulders in a casual, nonchalant shrug that tells Kurt she  _knows_  something.  She always knows something he doesn’t. 

“Why don’t you go in?”  Carrie says and her eyes are fucking  _twinkling_  at him.  Kurt would be annoyed if he weren’t so damn curious.

Kurt swallows and opens the door slowly, careful not to jostle the roses from their place.  Kurt gasps, eyes widening in astonishment, in awe, and his hand comes up to cover his mouth.

His office is filled, absolutely filled, with bright, fragrant bouquets of roses.   They’re everywhere – on his desk and bookcases, on his end tables and windowsills.  Tall vases are on even the floor, set off with lovely green and gold ribbon.  There’s a wreath of roses, twined and looped together in a delicate pattern, hanging on the wall behind his desk and on his desk chair is a white envelope with his name written across the front in Blaine’s tidy script.  There are tears in Kurt’s eyes and he can’t quite catch his breath.

“Important day?”  Carrie asks.

“I – no.  No it’s not.”  Kurt picks up the card and runs his fingers carefully along the edges.  It’s not his birthday and it’s not their anniversary – not of their first date or year together.  It’s not anything; it’s just a Thursday.  His office smells of roses and sunshine and his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest. 

“You’ve got a keeper there,” Carrie says, and Kurt looks up at his boss.  She’s smiling, but her eyes are serious.  “I hope you know that.”

Kurt swallows and blinks back the tears that are threatening to spill over.  He presses the card to his chest, over his heart, and thinks of Blaine, probably still naked in their bed and watching the clock on their nightstand to see when Kurt gets to his office and finds the roses. 

“I know.”


End file.
